


He Thinks He Deserves This

by ladyoneill



Series: Lady O's Teen Wolf Bingo Stories [79]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:17:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1992921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is convicted of conspiracy to commit murder for the killings at the hospital and sent to a juvenile corrections facility.  He protects himself as best he can, but...</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Thinks He Deserves This

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles is raped in prison. It's offscreen but discussion about it isn't. Stiles' believes he deserves to be in prison, to be be beaten, maybe even to be raped. He needs help.
> 
> Another mostly narrative piece. Written for Hurt/Comfort bingo prompt: Imprisonment. I work in civil law, not criminal, so I know nothing about that side of things.
> 
> Possibly pre-Derek/Stiles happening here if you choose to see it that way.

The hospital security cameras condemned him. While the oni did all the killing, Stiles was obviously there, with them, _enjoying_ the slaughter. While he was a suspect in the attacks at the sheriff's station, there was no proof, so those charges were dropped.

But, the ones for the hospital stuck.

After his attorney failed to get a plea of insanity through, the trial was pretty much pro-forma. The district attorney wasn't eager to make a deal and it wasn't like Stiles could turn in the oni as they were all dead and vanished. They did get the charges reduced to conspiracy to commit murder and, because he was only sixteen, he was tried as a juvenile. Because the survivors demanded justice, the trial was expedited, and the sentence was inevitable.

Nearly two years in juvenile detention, until he turned eighteen.

Stiles' dad was heartbroken--and in jeopardy of losing his job because of Stiles _again_. His friends were lost and hurting and worried for him. The swore to visit him every weekend, but he was hoping they didn't.

He deserved this. It was his hands that built the bomb, his mouth that directed the oni. His body, even if he wasn't in it anymore, that laughed over Allison's death.

So, after the humiliating strip search, the change into a rough set of khaki pants and a long sleeved navy t-shirt, when he was ushered into a small room containing a cot with a thin mattress, a desk and chair, and a toilet and sink, when the door clanged shut and locked behind him, he placed his spare set of clothing, the few toiletries he was allowed, and a picture of his dad on a shelf and climbed onto the mattress to hug himself as tightly as he could.

Yeah, he deserved this.

And he didn't get to bring his pillow.

*****

Stiles' dad, Scott and Lydia came that first weekend. The bruises he'd received the first few days as his 'welcome' were all hidden beneath his clothing so his dad didn't suspect anything, but he could tell Scott could smell the pain on him. He didn't comment, though.

Lydia tried to keep the conversation light, talking about school and taking Malia under her wing. Scott brought up lacrosse tryouts and the scarily good new freshmen. His dad...just watched him, sorrow in his eyes.

They brought him snacks, comic books, his favorite hoodie--all approved and nothing that anyone would try to steal. Even though the center was smoke-free, Stiles made a joke about bringing cigarettes for him to trade that fell a bit flat.

But, overall, it was a good visit.

Before he left, his dad hugged him like he never wanted to let him go.

*****

It was inevitable, though, that his friends' visits would slow down. While his dad faithfully came every Saturday, staying the entire four hours allowed, after a few months, Scott and Lydia started coming every other week, then once a month. Junior year ended and they were going on college visits. Scott and Kira were together now. Malia and a new kid, Liam, were part of the Pack. Mr. Argent was back but Isaac had stayed in France. Supernatural stuff continued to occur in Beacon Hills.

Life moved on.

Without him.

Stiles made a few friends, if they could be called that. He never completely felt comfortable with them. Because he was intelligent, after the mandatory schooling, he worked in the library, earning enough to buy soap and detergent and the occasional candy bar. The food was crap and full of fat, so he tried to hit the gym a couple times a week to stay in shape. Never alone, though. Always with at least one guy he semi-trusted. While he was an accessory to murder, there were actual murderers in here, and drug dealers and rapists.

While he learned early on that getting in good with some of them or one of the gangs would have been the smart thing to do, he just couldn't bring himself to make those kind of connections. He hung out with guys inside for burglary and car theft--non violent crimes.

It was a mistake.

He'd known all along it was a mistake.

But, then, he probably deserved what happened then, too.

*****

Nearly seven months into his incarceration, in the height of summer, tempers ran high and he attracted the interest of someone who wouldn't leave him alone. Someone bigger, stronger...dangerous.

After the mess with Kate not being dead and Derek being de-aged--boy, Stiles missed a lot--the former Alpha came to visit a few times. He was oddly friendly with Stiles' dad which threw him for a loop, but it was good to know his dad had someone else to protect him. Derek hadn't visited since early May, but, of course he came three days after the attack and, no matter how much Stiles had scrubbed his skin raw, Derek knew. His nose twitched. The permanent frown on his face deepened.

But, he didn't say anything, not until Stiles' dad went to the restroom.

"You need to tell your dad."

Stiles shot him his best glare, a bit shaky as he was still a bit shaky...and sore. At least the bleeding had stopped that first night.

"And he can do what? I'm not a snitch."

"You were..." Derek bit off the words and, unable to look at him, Stiles dropped his eyes. He knew he was pale. He knew he smelled like pain and blood...and...semen.

Shit. 

Tears prickled his eyes and he hastily swiped them away, hissing, "I'm okay. I'm not telling anyone. I have thirteen more months in here and then I can get back to my life. I'm not going to do anything stupid enough to get me killed."

"It'll happen again," Derek said flatly.

"Yeah, and I'll survive it. Just...Jesus, Derek, don't say anything to anyone." He was begging, but then he'd begged that night, too, in a corner of the laundry room where he'd been trapped by a convicted rapist. It hadn't stopped him.

He just had to hope he could convince Derek to keep quiet.

Glancing up, he saw the uncomfortable and oddly compassionate look on Derek's face, and was shocked when the older man reached over and took one of his trembling hands, gently squeezing it.

"When you get out of here, you have to talk to someone, Stiles. Promise me."

"I...ok-okay. I just...I mean, I always suspected it would happen. I'm tall, but not big or strong and...and I guess I'm pretty," he choked out, because the guy had called him that, like he was a girl, all while shoving his dick... "I probably should have found a...protector...I just..."

Slowly their eyes met. "If it's not too late, you should."

At the sudden emotion welling up in him, Stiles swallowed hard, but didn't pull back from Derek as he whispered, "Y'know, for years I wanted to have sex, looked forward to it, even had a few opportunities, but...but...I wanted...it to mean something."

"That wasn't sex," Derek murmured back. "You know that." Stiles nodded. "When you get out of here, you can still make it special."

"I'm not sure I'll even want to," was his dull reply.

"With the right person, you will." 

Derek being so tender shocked Stiles out of his fears and melancholy and he almost smiled at a tiny tendril of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe he would survive this with enough of himself still whole to have a future.

"If...when I get out of here, can I...can I talk to you more about this?"

"Yes."

The hope sprouted a few new leaves.

Sitting in an almost comfortable silence, they were still holding hands when Stiles' dad returned, one eyebrow cocked in surprise, but it was accompanied by a slight smile.

Stiles and Derek both gave him tiny smiles back.

End


End file.
